#so not super indicative of what ive been listening to. but indicative of what i could be listening to at any given moment

[rebelzephyr104]

tagged by @o1iveangel

rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 friends to do the same.

Here are mine:

start a riot - duckwrth & shaboozey

all my friends - darwin deez

beyond the light - the longest johns

the last saskatchewan pirate - the arrogant worms

roll the old chariot along - david coffin

show business - a tribe called quest

wesley's theory - kendrick lamar

to noise making (sing) - hozier

london calling - the clash

my apology - great big sea

my tags: @i-3at-s0ap @the-willow-wood @ursamajori @nerdy-scribbles (no pressure queens)

[falltothesun]

helloooo taking you up on that hook up advice offer !! especially since im also a trans guy & ive been considering grindr bcos i have been insanely needy the past week it's literally making it hard for me to function so yes!! please!!!!

Hi omg! So I definitely joined Grindr for the same reason, I needed to get dicked down so bad it was starting to affect my work lmfao. Huge disclaimer: this is all a bunch of stuff that works for me, from my experiences. There's no handbook, I'm figuring this out myself. If anyone wants to correct me/add on, please do.

First and foremost- don't settle. Grindr is a bit of a hellscape. In the moment it definitely seems like anyone willing to fulfill your needs is worth it. I'm speaking as a total sub/bottom so there were definitely guys on Grindr who 'spoke my language', offered what sounded like a good time, but didn't have my best interests at heart. You can't put much trust in any stranger on a hookup app, but here are some good indicators of things to watch out for and avoid:

- blank profiles/no pics. You're going to get a ton of them. Dick pics do not count. Make sure you have a good image of the person you're meeting. Make sure they're clean (both hygiene and std wise). Just- the more info you have on them, the better.

- being pushy. They're going to whine and whine about meeting up, and they are also going to say nasty things if you ignore them/turn them down. Do not let this guilt you. If this is how they receive boundaries over text- you can't trust them during a hookup. You don't owe anyone anything, not even a text back. A huge green flag is when you can have a no-pressure conversation, and sometimes even a pre-meetup to discuss boundaries and kinks.

Do not get stingy on your own boundaries! You are meant to enjoy this time, too. Tell them exactly what you want, your hard nos and hell yesses. Clear communication beforehand can lead to a fantastic night. Don't worry about blocking or turning down if you're getting bad vibes- there's literally dozens of guys waiting in your DMs, one of them has to be good.

Now, I have huge trust issues so bear with me here- you can't always count on your hookup, even if you found one that checks all the aforementioned boxes. So have some contingencies. Here are some of mine:

- two (or three) of my friends get a text as soon as I leave my house. Yes, it's awkward to mention to someone that you're about to fuck, but prior conversations have been had and usually I just say "I'm going out for x hours, call me if I don't get back to you by then". I send my location if possible (harder to do with carplay), and just like that, there are people waiting for my word. Hell, you can DM me your location and a timeframe and I will call the police in your area if I don't hear back from you.

- I never host. Is this controversial? I don't care. I'm a sub, bottom, afab, tiny human. I'm super susceptible to stalking and kidnapping (and not in the fun way), so I keep myself safe by making sure my hookups don't know where I live. I like to drive to their place, because then I have myself a getaway vehicle, or we meet in the middle somewhere. Regardless, my home is a secret and shall stay that way.

- don't bring anything valuable. Other than my phone and my wallet (which I sometimes just leave in my car), I bring nothing with me. This is less about personal safety and more about theft tho lol

-bring protection. Rawdogging is fun but STDs and pregnancy scares are not.

-this is Grindr specific but be careful with your photos. Grindr has a neat function called 'albums', and you can retract any sent albums at anytime so they can't be seen anymore. You also can't screenshot anything in the Grindr app. This protects you- to a point. But like anywhere else on the internet, be very, very careful with who you send your pics to.

Takes you by the shoulders. Listen to me. It is always okay to say no. You could be in someone's bed, naked, and you can say no. This sounds like common sense, but sometimes you're with a stranger in the moment and things aren't firing right in your brain, but your well-being is 100% a bigger priority than pleasing the guy you met on Grindr. They can bitch and moan all they want, but if you aren't feeling it, you aren't feeling it, and you don't owe sex to anyone. You can say no at any time. And anyone who fights you on it or disregards it is not someone you want to associate with.

Ok now that all the parental lecture-y stuff is out of the way- some general tips to show your hookup partner some respect! They're also in a place of vulnerability, so while it's good to be careful, it's also good to be gracious.

-protection. I said this already! But you can bring more than just a condom. Looking into PrEP, getting yourself tested(!!!!) after every encounter, and not having sex when you're sick is generally good etiquette. Getting tested is not only being a decent human for your hookup partner, but it's important to do for yourself as well. Idk what country you live in and what the healthcare is like so hopefully it's as easy as walking in to a clinic like it is here. Post-sec institutes (colleges/universities) usually have fantastic sexual health programs as well so I'd check there if you're in that demographic!

- clean up. Please. Shower, brush your teeth, put on some deodorant and a clean change of clothes. It goes a long way! My best hookups have been with a guy who smelled good, and I enjoyed it as much as I did the actual pounding in his backseat. Also clean up after the hookup! Shower, pee, etc. Hygiene. (I'm a germaphobe ok)

- boundaries! You've set yours, now stick to theirs. I've slept with guys who really didn't like blowjobs- so I didn't give any, we kept it junk to junk. I might've been the sub in the situation, but that doesn't mean the guy dominating was a sex machine who liked everything, so I accommodated that! Sometimes it's as simple as listening to the sounds they're making, reading the body language, and acting accordingly. If they aren't being enthusiastic about what's happening, then maybe it's time to check in.

- text back. Hey man, if it was a good fuck, it was a good fuck. NSA is usually my style, but there's nothing wrong with hooking up again with the same mf if it was a damn good time. Give 'em some feedback, tell them you had a fantastic night, ask about doing it again. Everyone needs the confidence boost.

Goddamn this got long. I hope some of this helps, I hope I didn't miss anything, and I hope I didn't say something that sounds completely fucking bananas. Good luck and hope you have some good, safe hookups!!

[thegreenishhues]

Thanks for the tag Ghost and Tiger CC:

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

One I made for fun a bit ago :DD

🍫 Cheese or chocolate? oooo chocolate but I love both!

✨ Do you have any nicknames? Irl yes. online ive been called rose a bit but almost always rosey

🎵 Last song you listened to?

Knotted constellations by Madilyn mei!!

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction?

Nope but I have thought of doing it a few times props to anyone who does its super cool!!

😏 Are you on discord?

yes!! I have been chatting a bunch on their recently with my moots CC:

 💛 Do you have any piercings?

My ears are pierced if that counts :)

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person?

Hmm I like what Ghost said, also how you treat strangers is a pretty good indicator to me of what someone thinks of themselves/ how they are as a person.

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

Maybe a snickerdoodle? I like snickerdoodles like a better version of a sugar cookie

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

A dog person because I have one but I love cats as well

🎧 Headphones or earbuds?

Earbuds because headphones hurt my ears because of my glasses.

🌼 What’s the last thing you said out loud?

"That's... special" (about my friends Pinterest board lmao)

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know?

Most people dont give a shit what you do and so you should do what makes you happy. Not so much a weird fact as a thing I think about when Im worried my interests are weird lol.

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl?

Night owl! I stay up very late when given the chance

🧸 Favorite place to nap?

Ooo anywhere? middle of a field or on a mountain C:

🏳️‍🌈 Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?

Yep, I am a lil gay goober how loves love c:

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

Trying. My. Best.

👖 Jeans or sweatpants?

Jeans but the really big ones that are comfy as heck.

🥤 What’s your go-to Starbucks order?

Hmmmm not a huge starbucks but I like the cakepops and the hot chocolate :D

🧡 A color you can’t stand?

Orange funny enough but like REALLY bright traffic cone orange

💎 What’s your most prized possession?

My necklace from summer camp ig! it has a charm for every year ive gone >:D

☕ Coffee or tea?

Coffee but both are good :)

🦖 Favorite extinct animal?

Lmao what?? How about a dodo bird they seem pretty chill

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr?

Over a year!! my anniversary is in February :D

🌴 Desert island item?

A working phone will cellular data for an emergency call get me off the damn island before I need to worry about surviving

🐸 Describe your aesthetic.

Hmmm Ive been told I dress fairly "granola"?? Basically hiking stuff but Im honestly not sure lol

🔮 What’s your dream job?

Child psychologist or therapist although I do want to stream at some point in my life as well

💙 Relationship status?

Single lol I will date when I meet someone worth dating <3

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.

Currently O.O just got home and it was pouring so pj pants and a t-shirt

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

Many many of them lyrics stick to me like glue for some reason but an example... let it go from frozen 1 becuase I watched that movie far too much as a kid.

🤎 What color is your hair?

Brown!

💌 Do you talk to yourself?

Yep!

💄 Do you wear makeup?

Some days :D

🌸 Best compliment you ever received?

Oh gosh im not sure lol

💞 @ your favorite blog. oh gosh I dont think I can choose one but all of my mutuals you guys are my favorites >:D

Feel free to join in but im going to tag a few people!!

@sillygh0st @sevenzinha @leemontoast @artistnerd24 /np!!

~ 💖 ASK GAME 💖 ~

📷 What’s set as your phone’s lockscreen?

🍫 Cheese or chocolate?

✨ Do you have any nicknames?

🎵 Last song you listened to?

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction?

😏 Are you on discord?

 💛 Do you have any piercings?

🐰 What do you think says the most about a person?

🍪 If you were a cookie, what kind would you be?

🐶 Are you more of a dog person or a cat person?

🎧 Headphones or earbuds?

🌼 What’s the last thing you said out loud?

🙃 What’s a weird fact that you know?

🦉 Are you a morning person or a night owl?

🧸 Favorite place to nap?

🏳️‍🌈 Are you a member of the LGBTQIA+ community?

🦋 Describe yourself in three words.

👖 Jeans or sweatpants?

🥤 What’s your go-to Starbucks order?

🧡 A color you can’t stand?

💎 What’s your most prized possession?

☕ Coffee or tea?

🦖 Favorite extinct animal?

🌙 How long have you been on tumblr?

🌴 Desert island item?

🐸 Describe your aesthetic.

🔮 What’s your dream job?

💙 Relationship status?

🌿 Describe your favorite outfit.

🎤 Is there a song you know all the lyrics to?

🤎 What color is your hair?

💌 Do you talk to yourself?

💄 Do you wear makeup?

🌸 Best compliment you ever received?

💞 @ your favorite blog.

Reblogs are appreciated!

[mithliya]

https://traycakes.tumblr.com/post/695544490407198720/a-terf-on-twitter-insisted-that-trans-women-sneak

this post has more than 50k notes and it seems ridiculous. it‘s supposed to frame radical feminists as some sort of pornbrained freaks. anytime i’ve heard radfems refer to porn it has been in a critical way. what do you think?

this is so hilarious bc it’s all a bunch of projection.

“terfs are totally saying that one day you’ll be able to totally change your sex and replace women and get a womb and-”

yet it’s trans women arguing they’ll soon get uterus transplants, taking hormones to produce fake milk to breastfeed with, and constantly argue that that’ll totally be a reality one day while women question why on earth they keep arguing something practically impossible will totally happen within a few years, if ever.

“actually terfs are so obsessed with porn and have sexual fantasies about trans people bc they brought up how many are literally involved with sissy hypnosis fetish videos!!”

but.. a huge portion of AGPs who they’re now arguing are the exact same as trans women overall and not at all different ARE into those things and get so into it that they argue that it IS changing them. many downright claim that!! here’s a quote from a famous trans writer:

wait no maybe it’s an indication that i have this fetish if i notice many trans women are publicly identifying it as the start of their desire to transition tho??? apparently being into the fetish is a-ok and means nothing, but knowing of it means you totally are into it and spend hours watching sissy hypno porn daily. make it make sense

“a terf said trans women masturbate in the women’s bathrooms!!! it’s totally just from a hentai manga tho!!!”

remember that nasa employee that posted about being a trans woman who goes to the women’s bathrooms and masturbates there among NUMEROUS other examples? yeah knowing about that makes u a porn sicko apparently :/

(this person proceeded to share an 8 minutes long video masturbating in the women’s bathroom). i can’t find the NASA tweets but i remember it caused a shitstorm so if anyone wants to add em feel free to but.. lord the projection here is off the charts.

it’s amazing how every single example is just “terfs listen to what many trans women have said and done and then reiterate it & the statements are really extremely pornographically driven… therefore actually terfs are super pornsick themselves!” … if i said many men ive come across are into rape porn or sth would it mean im into rape porn??? like this is the kind of logic we’re working with here.

[deerest-me]

okay @sablegear0 you have wandered into my trap with these tags:

fantastic insight. instant comfort when the light portal opened, a simple but very effective bit of sound design.

but, there's even more fun to be had here, and ive been looking for an excuse to dig into it. so here we go!!

the audio i posted above is a sequence of internal game files. granted, the internal files DarkPortalRip and LightPortalRip are composite / sequenced sounds themselves and cover most of the portal generator SFX. but the actual portal opening and the howling / ringing respectively are separate files that i mixed in audacity.

as you noticed the light portal has a choir like sound to it. layered under it is ALSO a crackly electricity sound! for both light and dark portals, the sustained ``open portal'' sound consists of multiple tracks layered on top of each other.

the ones for the dark portal... are really, really interesting. give this a listen, it's the sound for when a rift goes to an open portal:

listen to that ending! that growl and very organic, guttural sound. never knew that was there all these years! really adds an almost, subliminal sinister edge.

there are a few folders in the internal files dedicated to the dark portal SFX:

the first one contains sounds for the initial portal when encountering dark samus the first time. the second is the sound just above. 3, 4, 6, 7 are other portal sounds you will be used to from playing the game, and DarkPortalRip is for the generation sequence as i already mentioned a bit.

...why did i leave out 5 and 8 in that list, though? well... hear for yourself.

whaaaaat the heck is that??? more organic-y sounding stuff. like huge roots straining against each other, or tendrils. i dont remember hearing this involving portals (it's possible it's mislabeled and used in dark torvus somewhere), but i am due for a prime 2 replay.

still, i love the picture this paints of dark portals as being almost living. something is disturbed, or watching you on every journey to dark aether...

here's a little bonus that i was thinking of writing about in a separate post, but, eh, why not stick it here?

i didnt extract the audio files ive been using myself, and in that respect bearborg is more than welcome to weigh in here, as he has undoubtedly poked around here. so, as i noted above, those last audio clips might have nothing to do with dark portals.

but there is some evidence that supports these folder names being the internal ones:

these audio files are for quadraxis (it even lets you hear some of its spoken lines in luminoth clearly, which is super nifty). fellow turbo nerds will know that the sanctuary fortress area was originally referred to as the ``digital world'', as learned from interviews and written in the margins on some of the concept art. so, that's a good indicator that these are the original folder names!

the devs also called the sanctuary area ``cliffside'' in map files and such, and other folders for sfx in the sanctuary region are labeled that way:

so, inconsistent naming that spans multiple eras of how the region was referred to, etc, all seem to suggest these are named by the devs themselves and not the result of renaming by a fan who ripped the audio, yadda yadda yadda.

anyways, the reason i say all this... is the following:

what does it mean? well, on the japanese metroid prime 2 site, there was a Q&A that dropped the name of phaaze way before prime 3:

Question: This is a blunt question. Just exactly what is the origin place of Phazon? ANSWER : It might be a place called Phaaze.

so, i guess this is all to say, the retro devs knew too! wonder what that means for the worldbuilding of the phazon meteor that struck aether... :-]

``Portal control system online. Portal generation initiated. Walk into the portal to transport to Aether.''

[lifeafterpsychiatry]

ive been self diagnosed autistic for a couple years now, and i didnt know the road to professional diagnosis would be so.. scary! ive been doing near constant research into autism, especially as it can present in adult afab people, and honestly im certain i'm autistic.

but my mom has been really stressed about what if something happens to her and my dad, because i cant be independent and i have to live with them. she wants to help me get disability income, but obviously first i need proof of my disability.. that being autism. my mom seems to only really care about it for the money (not in a bad way, just in a 'she wants me to have money so i dont freaking die if they die' way)

but for me its ultimately gonna be like.. super affirming, and a real indicator of my potential as a person if i can recognize something like that in myself and be correct. but if i get told no... that's going to be extremely terrifying. my entire sense of understanding myself will be shattered. and im going to need to try again with a different psychologist.. potentially one who doesnt take my insurance.

this is a gamble i have no choice but to make, and its really scary, but im doing my best to be brave. disability income would be a life changer for me, even as stupid and limited and ass-backwards the system is in the united states right now. and more than anything, i just want that diagnosis so i can feel like i truly understand myself. thank u for listening!

I totally get that you're scared, but I trust that you know yourself and that if you find a psychiatrist who is educated on autism, they will see it too. And even IF it turns out to be something else, then you're still equally disabled. I thought I was autistic and eventually got diagnosed with schizophrenia instead. And I still got approved for disability. So whatever it is, you're not making it up. And I hope you find a professional who can see that you're struggling to a degree where a diagnosis is necessary, regardless of the exact details. That being said, besides myself I have never met a self-diagnosed autistic who turned out to be wrong about being autistic. So I think the odds are in your favor

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 4

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths (1)

The first time Cheng Yixie understood that he likely wouldn't live for long was on the day of his fifth birthday. While other five-year-olds were still bumbling about without much concept of life and death, he had understood something in his mother's tears and his father's frowns. His fifth birthday was spent in the hospital, alongside his foolish brother Cheng Qianli. With IV drips in their arms and eating horribly bitter medicine, they stuck five candles into a lovely cake to make a wish.

Cheng Yixie looked at the candles on their cake and quietly thought, he wished he could grow up quicker, because there were still placed he wanted to see in this world.

Cheng Qianli clearly didn’t think as much as Cheng Yixie. He wore a brilliant smile in sharp contrast with the impassive Cheng Yixie sitting next to him, and all of his attention was on the sweet and spongey cake before him. Fools had an easier time than geniuses. A single sweet candy could bring a genuine smile out of him.

Cheng Yixie and Cheng Qianli were twins, but everything about them beside their faces seemed completely different.

Cheng Yixie had realized long ago that they were different from other kids. He'd even heard a doctor discuss their condition with their parents. From that discussion, a single sentence had been imprinted in his brain. Their primary doctor had said that, at the current level of medical progress, he and Cheng Qianli would not live past sixteen.

Sixteen—sixteen. Life would only just be starting. Cheng Yixie went back to their hospital room and watched his brother sit in the hospital bed, giggling at the cartoon on TV. There wasn't a single shadow in Cheng Qianli's eyes; they were as bright as the blue skies outside their window.

Cheng Qianli was a lot skinnier than he was, and his body was weaker too. Though he was almost ten, he still looked like an undernourished bean sprout. For treatment, neither of them had any hair. All over their heads and wrists were green and purple puncture marks.

Cheng Yixie came into the hospital room and Cheng Qianli looked up at him, calling out Gege in a sweet voice. That pair of adorable cat eyes were overflowing with palpable joy; he'd never bothered hiding his affection for Cheng Yixie.

"Gege." The tiny Cheng Qianli looked right and left, before carefully waving Cheng Yixie over.

Cheng Yixie went to his bedside, and Cheng Qianli indicated he should bend down. Cheng Yixie thought that Cheng Qianli had something to say to him and obeyed. But the moment he bent, a tiny piece of candy was pushed between his lips.

"Sh," Cheng Qianli said. "Don't tell nurse-jiejie. Grandma gave it to me in secret. I gave it a lick, it's super yummy."

Because they were sick, their diets were under strict control; the amount of snacks they got to eat in a year could be counted on both hands. Cheng Yixie thought, how nice would it be if they were normal children? Then Cheng Yixie could eat all the food that he wanted, and they wouldn't have to be doing such a pitiful thing.

"You're feeding me something you already ate?" was how Cheng Yixie responded to Cheng Qianli's good will. "Gross."

"You're lying," Cheng Qianli harrumphed. "You like candy too, I know it. Mean gege."

Cheng Yixie said nothing. The candy's sweetness was dispersing through his mouth, but all he could see was their future. He couldn't imagine losing this foolish brother of his; he wanted so badly to see Cheng Qianli grow up and have a life of his own.

Cheng Yixie thought surviving was just wishful thinking, until he was chosen by the doors.

The terrifying world of the doors was perhaps an awful sort of torture for many, but for Cheng Yixie, it was a blessing of mercy from the heavens.

When he entered the first door he wasn't even sixteen, and looked completely out of place in the pack of adults.

His first door was very difficult. Cheng Yixie believed that he would die inside, but his fortune was good—he met a veteran who'd passed through many doors. That veteran opened the door, and Cheng Yixie successfully left that extra-dimensional world.

After coming out from the door, Cheng Yixie's physical condition began to swiftly get better.

The doctors called it a miracle. They were getting the same medicine and the same treatments, but Cheng Yixie's body was getting better and quickly approaching normalcy, while Cheng Qianli's was getting weaker.

Cheng Yixie knew why this was happening. He tried telling this absurd yet genuine truth to his parents, but both parents thought he was joking.

In everybody else's eyes, Cheng Yixie had only sat on his bed and spaced out for a bit. He hadn't gone anywhere. Everything he said was probably just a child's imagination. How could they take the imaginary as truth?

Cheng Yixie was smart enough to know that the adults would never understand. This matter had already gone beyond explicable bounds, and he had no evidence to prove the existence of the door.

Then what about Cheng Qianli? Cheng Yixie thought. What about his little fool of a brother?

Before Cheng Yixie had an answer, he entered his second door. And in his second door, he met Obsidian leader Ruan Nanzhu.

Ruan Nanzhu had been in a dress at the time, and called him kiddo with a smile.

Cheng Yixie only shot him a cold look, not bothering to respond. What good was any of this talk? In his first door he'd seen plenty of adults who acted all arrogant and coy one second end up dead the next.

Cheng Yixie figured the same would be true of Ruan Nanzhu. But then he discovered that Ruan Nanzhu didn't seem to be as he'd thought. Ruan Nanzhu was good. Cheng Yixie was keen enough to pick this up after observing Ruan Nanzhu's following actions.

As Ruan Nanzhu got ready to leave, he gave Cheng Yixie a way to contact him, telling Cheng Yixie that if he wanted to know more, he could get in touch.

Cheng Yixie looked at that contact point and memorized it silently.

After leaving the second door, Cheng Yixie got in touch with Ruan Nanzhu and learned about the existence of Obsidian.

"Do you want to come to Obsidian? Maybe you can live for a bit longer here," Ruan Nanzhu said.

Cheng Yixie agreed. He didn't even get his parents' permission before leaving the hospital. He flew to the city where Ruan Nanzhu lived that night.

This was actually quite the risky gamble, because Cheng Yixie couldn't be sure if Ruan Nanzhu actually had any good will toward him. He was just a helpless kid, and if Ruan Nanzhu really wanted to do something to him, he had no chance of even resisting.

But Cheng Yixie could only make the gamble, because Cheng Qianli didn't have much time left.

There was an obvious contrast now that Cheng Yixie was getting healthier. Cheng Qianli was like a plant approaching winter; life was flowing out of him at a rate visible to the naked eye.

After arriving at Obsidian, the first thing he asked upon meeting Ruan Nanzhu was, "can other people get the doors too?"

To his question, Ruan Nanzhu was silent for a while, before saying, "yes, but I'm not telling you how."

"Why not?" Cheng Yixie asked.

"Because you pay with somebody else's life," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Can you do such a thing?"

Cheng Yixie was silent.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't continue the topic, only gave him a simple introduction to the doors. He told him about the hints, about Obsidian, and about some other things. Of course, from start to finish, he never once told Cheng Yixie how to steal somebody else's door. He only warned Cheng Yixie to hide his identity inside the door, or else there would be danger.

Cheng Yixie paid close attention. As he listened, however, he kept thinking about Cheng Qianli. He was thinking that even if he did steal a door for Cheng Qianli, would Cheng Qianli be able to make it out?

The worlds inside the doors were so scary, and didn't suit the naive Cheng Qianli at all. Even if he stole the doors for Cheng Qianli like Ruan Nanzhu said, would it be just another form of torture for Cheng Qianli?

He was so small, and so scared of the dark. He was so completely different from Cheng Yixie. He was just a normal kid.

That night, Cheng Yixie sat in the garden by himself for a long, long time. It wasn't until dawn emerged over the horizon that he rubbed his dry eyes and went impassively back into the house.

What Cheng Yixie was thinking, nobody knew. Since that day on, he never once returned home, and he never once contacted Cheng Qianli.

Is it because your brother's too stupid? So you don't like him anymore? someone asked Cheng Yixie once. Cheng Yixie didn't say anything in return, just shot that person an icy look.

The reason he didn't go back and didn't contact Cheng Qianli was because he was scared. He was scared that he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he would do something out of bounds.

He didn't even dare try to think about Cheng Qianli dying. The moment he thought about it, many terrifying thoughts would surface in his mind.

Cheng Qianli was the calamity in Cheng Yixie's life that he could never escape; he knew that for this brother of his, he could cross even the lowest lines.

And when he became conscious of this, the only thing Cheng Yixie could do was reduce the influence Cheng Qianli had on him—even if the reduction process was tantamount to cutting out a part of himself by brute force.

They were twins. Twins linked by blood. A single glance, a single look, and they could understand what the other was thinking; even a thousand miles away, Cheng Yixie could feel Cheng Qianli growing gradually weaker.

Cheng Yixie thought everything would end like this. But one afternoon, he got a call from Cheng Qianli.

To this very day, Cheng Yixie could recall the weather then.

It was a drizzling spring day, and the shrubs in the yard were lush with greenery. Everything was filled with the breath of revival. And Cheng Qianli's voice came from the other end of the line, sniffling and a little bit weak. He cried, "Ge, Ge, I'm so scared—"

Cheng Yixie, "what's wrong?" He'd sensed something, and his voice couldn't help but tighten in alarm.

"I went into a door." Cheng Qianli spoke in frail stutters. "There were so many ghosts inside. I finally came out. Am I dreaming…When are you coming back…I miss you so much…" It seemed he was growing unconscious, slowly beginning to mumble nonsense.

As Cheng Yixie listened, however, he began to laugh quietly. He laughed until tears came out, and said, "don't be scared. Gege's here. Wait for Gege to come back."

Gege will protect you.

And so, Cheng Yixie understood that he'd never escape Cheng Qianli the calamity. He would use every single method at his disposal to protect Cheng Qianli's life. He would see him grow up, marry, have children. His children would have children and he would definitely live on and prosper.

Author's Note:

Here's the long-awaited twins extra!

[Extra: Shameless Couple(2)] | [Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(2)]

[classicanalyzer]

20 Questions for 20 Writers (where did the other 10 questions go?)

Thanks for tagging me @marvel-starwarsfangirl :D.

1. Is writing a hobby or way of life?

I would love to make writing a way of life for me but it's mostly a hobby. However, my mind always thinks of writing, so it's a way of life in my head. Ideally, it would always be a way of life for me haha.

2. A journal full of writing notes or a clean, completed manuscript?

I attempt and want to keep journals of my ideas. Often my notes are what I type to others since I love to discuss them. In a nutshell, I gotta compile those conversations into actual notes lmao.

3. Who (or what) is your writing inspiration?

Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Kingdom Hearts were my main inspirations when I was in 3rd grade. It all started when I roleplayed stories outside and it was a long process of my desire to write.

4.Which is worse: someone you "idolize" reading your first draft or listening to you sing?

Both! I feel terrified of someone I idolize reading my first draft because I don't have a lot of confidence in my own writing...it's why I struggle with writing at all despite all the writing in my head. I'm also super insecure about my singing abilities.

5. Has writing from someone else's POV ever changed your own perspective?

Not really but it does really help me understand why a character feels and does what they do.

6. Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN?

When I post a fanfic, I would definitely post it on AO3. Really hoping to write a Phineas and Ferb one I had in my mind for quite a while haha.

7. AO3 wordcount, and are you satisfied with it?

I would be satisfied with actually writing the fanfic! Once I do no matter the wordcount, I'll be so satisfied.

8. What movie/book/fic gripped you irrevocably?

Note: These are some of them.

Movies: Star Wars (All movies...okay maybe except for the romance scenes in AotC lol), Lord of the Rings, Puss in Boots: The Last Wish, Spider-Verse movies, Nimona.

Shows: Phineas and Ferb, Gravity Falls, Amphibia, The Owl House, Digimon Adventures and Tamers, Regular Show, Hilda, Star Wars (Andor, Rebels, and Bad Batch), Ninjago, Community, Lupin (Parts IV-V), BoJack Horseman, Green Eggs and Ham, Lackadaisy.

Books: Light of the Jedi by Charles Soule and Rising Storm by Caven Scott, Animal Farm and 1984 by George Orwell (They were a major part of my literary journey into writing).

Fics: Timeslip by @nekodatta, MoonShadow by @a-e-redacted, Pokedex by Birdboy, Pokemon Conquest: The Legend of Ransei by Imperator Justinian, Long Distance by DoubleRainbowPudding.

(Bonus) Video Games (Just some of them lol): Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy (Especially VII, IX, and XVI), Pokemon, TWEWY, Fallout (Sadly I have never played the games yet but the story and lore of the series is amazing), Ni No Kuni, Digimon Cyber Sleuth and Hacker's Memory, Eastward, Sable.

9. What's the highest compliment you could ever be given, and have you been given it?

If they like my story, I know it's small but every positive comment helps me write more.

10. What defines your writing style?

I would like to go for either a single-POV or multiple-character POV writing style. I might use the third person for the latter but also some signals to indicate their inner thoughts almost as if they're reacting to the written events. I think of The Catcher in the Rye as an inspiration for aspects of the writing style I want to further develop.

I love to tap into the emotions, desires, and insecurities everyone has from villains to heroes. It is what helps me write these characters and get myself invested. I also really love weaving the in-universe past with the in-universe present of the story. It gives a story a sense of a tragedy or a heartwarming continuation when those direct or symbolic parallels are made.

Tagging: @hshfsjzjsgj, @legendarycollectorcomputer

20 Questions for 20 Writers (where did the other 10 questions go?)

Tagged by: @evilwriter37

1. Is writing a hobby or way of life?

I think it started as a hobby for me, but at this point, thanks to The Bad Batch getting me back into writing, it is a way of life.

2. A journal full of writing notes or a clean, completed manuscript?

Gonna go with the notes. The amount of notes I have to take now because of my TBI. Wow.

3. Who (or what) is your writing inspiration?

Well, I'd definitely say The Bad Batch, and I think my friend Marshall, honestly. Talking with him about writing and writing techniques and all that gets me really excited.

4.Which is worse: someone you "idolize" reading your first draft or listening to you sing?

Definitely the first draft one. Thanks to the TBI my first drafts miss so many things, and I constantly have to go back and add details I had completely forgotten existed. I used to sing all the time, and had an excellent singing voice before COVID, so maybe even now with a bad singing voice I wouldn't mind too much. I'm used to performances.

5. Has writing from someone else's POV ever changed your own perspective?

No.

6. Tumblr, AO3, LiveJournal, or FFN?

AO3! Though I love posting my Summer of Bad Batch fics here. The reception I get is amazing.

7. AO3 wordcount, and are you satisfied with it?

1,907,782. And hell no. I want to hit 2 million!

8. What movie/book/fic gripped you irrevocably?

Movies and shows: Doctor Who, Supernatural, The Lord of the Rings, The Bad Batch

Books: Throne of Glass, Mistborn

Fics: (Okay, I love your answer for this, @evilwriter37, thank you!) As for fics I'd say Series Failsafe- Post Plan 99 from @clownery-and-fuckery. He really got me back into reading fanfic. And also System Upgrade from @just-here-with-my-thoughts. (Sorry I haven't had time to finish reading it yet!) Also probably 30 Days (on the road to healing) by @marvel-starwarsfangirl because Crosshair journaling is so intriguing!

9. What's the highest compliment you could ever be given, and have you been given it?

Probably that I write as well as canon or better than canon, and everyone's in character. And yes, I have been told that multiple times.

10. What defines your writing style?

You know, I'm not sure. @evilwriter37, any guesses here?

Tagging: @clownery-and-fuckery, @squad-724, @just-here-with-my-thoughts, and @marvel-starwarsfangirl (Sorry if I'm missing anyone? My memory's bad today.)

[ssplague]

Chapter 0ne

“And so it begins”

Katsuki B. X Reader

Rated M

Warnings: Gaslighting, manipulation, power play, light degradation

The day before the two of you left for UA; Your best friend gave her word to your mother that she would always look after you. Now that the two of you are in your third year she’s officially FED UP with your attitude and childish antics. Mentioning her dilemma to your shared group of friends results in the most unlikely person offering to be her solution to the problem that is YOU.

A/N: The girl in the banner is NOT how the reader is “supposed” to look, it was just a drawing I did specifically for this. You look however you want to, I don’t really make any specific references to your appearance in this story.

🌅

Its Saturday morning; Ive been awake for about five minutes now, but I’m not ready to open my eyes and embrace the conscious world just yet. Hearing the door of my room unlock and open does the trick though. Only one person (other than myself of course) has a key to my dorm room.

“I made breakfast for the both of us, its your favorite” announces Euphie as she walks in, kicking the door shut behind her. I sit up, just as she’s pushing my black out curtains to the side I let out a hiss of disdain as sunlight immediately begins to permeate the room.

“Thank you Euphie” I say with a yawn.

She hands me a plate before settling down on my bed, acknowledging my thanks with a nod as we both tuck in.

“We have plans this afternoon, can you be ready by at least 12:30? No need to get super made up but at least out of your pajamas?” Euphies voice is gentle, but I catch the underlying “I’m not asking, but telling you” vibe she tries to hide.

“For sure”

She smiles at my seemingly agreeable mood so early in the morning and we easily segway into our standard start of the day discussions. “Are we um…Are we going to be busy all day? I….I kinda planned on going to hangout with-“ Euphie cuts me off as she picks up our plates: “No worries you’ll have plenty of time for that, I promise!” Giving me a wink before shutting my door.

She didn’t even know who I was referring to, or what I was going to say….

At 12:55 Euphie reappears to rush me out of my room.

“Hey I forgot my purse I-“

“Don’t need it”

“But my wallet is-“

“Not necessary”

Her tone is clipped, and she has a death grip on my wrist as she quite literally drags me down the hallway. Initially I was taken aback, not being used to receiving this type of treatment from her. My bearings have started returning along with growing frustration each time one of my questions are receiving one word answers, or met with a complete dismissal. Reaching my limit I fail to notice that she’d began to slow down, and I’m wrenching my wrist free of her grip at the exact same time she’d come to a stop.

“What in the fuck is your problem?! You told me that we had plans to go out this afternoon, and you’d treat me to whatever I want!

This-“ I’m interrupted again.

“I certainly wouldn’t do anything for a fuckin’ brat throwing a tantrum like this”

My eyes snap to the side where I see the irritated scowl of one Katsuki Bakugou, as he leans against his door frame glowering at me. Embarrassment further fuels my anger as I turn toward him, pointing an acusatory finger as I begin “No one fucking asked you, stay out of it Katsu-“.

Kirishima suddenly emerges from Bakugo’s room, giving Euphie an enthusastic greeting

“Hey there! You look nice, ready to head out?”. The red head is flashing his signature shark toothed grip at my best friend as he offers her his arm. “You know it” she giggles, taking hold of his muscular bicep. The two of them start to walk off, confused and furious I start to head after them, but a large hand grips my shoulder grounding me in place.

“Bakugo told me he wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on you while Kiri and I went out this afternoon, this way you’ll stay out of trouble and get to keep the plans you’d made with him, bye!” The closing elevator doors add a sudden finalization to her brief explanation.

“Plans?” Bakugo questions while uncermoniously yanking me backwards.

I stumble back, falling through the doorway and landing flat on my ass in front of the now closed door (Which he is standing in front of). Glaring up at him as he continues: “She must have me confused with the local brothel, because thats the only place I’d imagine wearing a skirt as short as that would be deemed appropriate”. His insult doesn’t deter his crimson eyes from roaming the length of my body, lingering on the aforementioned skirt. Getting to my feet, he walks around me and move towards his desk, taking a seat behind it.

“Oh fuck you Katsuki, you can be a real dick sometimes, I dunno what stupid Euphie told you about keeping and eye on me, but I dont need a fucking baby sitter! So ill be off now” with a huff you turn towards the door. “________, I’m not in the mood for bullshit today so just sit down and shut up” he growls, not turning to look at you. He always feels embarrassingly giddy when you adress him by his first name, thats why he insisted you call him by it. That in itself should be an indication of how he seems to favor you.

It makes him almost feel a bit guilty for using a harsh tone when he’d spoken to you. Despite how he treats others, Katsuki is hardly ever outright mean to you; He’s never even given you a derogatory nickname like he has for everyone else. Today’s an off day though…He’s just not used to running on little to no sleep. That paired with his already non existent level of patience makes for a blow up. Especially when YOU were the cause of his latest bout of insomnia….turning to look at you has his thoughts beginning to wander.

Those lips of yours flapping away as you berate him…

They sure would look a helluva lot better wrapped around his-

“-Not even fucking listening to me are you?!” You snarl, starting towards the door again. “I cant believe I woke up this morning wanting to hangout with YOU, guess I’ll change my plans and hangout with someone not so shitty to me…. Like Deku!” A loud crash comes from behind you. The now enraged man had stood up so abruptly, it sent his now vacated chair careening into the wall and toppling over.

“You really just cant help yourself can you?”

His voice is so eerily quiet as he turns to face you, something unidentifiable flashes in his rapidly darkening crimson orbs. You couldn’t exactly identify it, considering it disappeared as abruptly as it had originally came.

“Course you cant, I already know that”

A menacing smile appears on his face as he takes his first step toward you, immediately triggering your natural “Fight or flight” response.

“I know what you need”

He’s only an arms length away when you start to step back.

“You dont know shit”

You somehow summon the courage to speak, but are unable to summon any false bravado to keep you from betraying how unnerved he’s got you feeling as he takes another step.

“I know that your best friend cant stand what a spoiled fuckin’ brat you’ve become, I know she’s so fed up with your shit that she’s about to write you off completely”

The defiant expression you’d worn all this time finally starts to falter.

This marks the first time Katsuki has ever seen how you look when your confidence begins to ebb away, only to be replaced with a mixture of uncertainty and fear.

His sadistic side emerges with glee as your now saddened doe eyes meet his.

“You’re constantly disregarding everyone’s opinion of you unless it aligns with your own, but you dont even know what to think of yourself now that your faced with the possibility of being alone now…do you?

You remain silent, taking yet another step back as he continues speaking.

“You need someone who isn’t afraid to correct you, but they’ll have to of earned your respect….So when you inevitably step out of line, you wont put up a fight when you get put over their knee”

Your back hits the wall.

You swallow down the panic that slowly begun to rise from your chest up into your throat as you realize there is nowhere left for you to go.

“You desperately want to be a good girl, just dont know how to be one, huh princess?”

It’s so adorable the way your bottom lip juts out, but at the first quiver it quickly gets sucked between your teeth.

“That’s why you’re acting out right now isn’t it?

I bet you drench your cute little panties every time you get a rise out of me. Always hoping that its going to be the time I yank you the fuck up and put this brat in her goddamn place, hah?”

You shamelessly lean into the large hand thats now cupping your cheek, letting out a sigh as his thumb caresses your soft skin.

“Mhmmm”

It’s horrifying how easily you just admitted your most guarded secret! The triumphant smirk he sports makes it even harder to accept.

His tone is surprisingly gentle when he starts addressing you once again;

“I can do that for you baby….Let me be the one that finally brings the princess down on her knees”.

Your eyes are practically sparkling at the feel of a sudden pressure being applied to your throat. His calloused fingers squeezing the delicate skin of your neck, effectively making it harder and harder for you to breathe. The thrill of this foreign feeling is instantly addicting.

“Tell me if thats what you want: If its not then shake your head and we never speak of this again”

Bakugo has to at least give the illusion that you have a choice in the matter. Even though its more than obvious that you need want this just as much as he does.

“I want it, I want you” your words come out in a breathy whisper as he releases his hold on your throat.

“I wanna hear you say it princess, what do you want me to do with you”

“I want…no I NEED you to….t-to make me into your good girl please…”

He gestures for you to continue, his raised brow implying you must be forgetting something.

“Please make me into your good girl….Daddy”

The pleading expression and twinge of desperation in your voice stirs something deep inside Bakugo. It was something akin to the last vestiges of some ancient seal had disappeared: The monster that it had rendered dormant had finally roused from its slumber, intent on wreaking havoc.

“You do understand that you’re mine now right ________? Every part of your being belongs solely to me”

Gorgeous ruby eyes scrutinize your face carefully, searching for a single trace of fear, uncertainty, or possible apprehension. All they found was admiration and girlish excitement, and this earned you a genuine smile from the almost always scowling young man.

“Yes, every part of me belongs to you now Katsuki”

“Better get used to this then”

Before you could inquire what he was referring to, he was kissing you.

❤️‍🔥

A/N: So concludes chapter one

Oh god I hope this is well received.

Should I get a tag list together? Is it too soon? If anyone would be interested leave a comment. SMUT in the next chapter, we’re moving faster here because let’s be honest; Smut is what all of us want! 💦

[astradrifting]

GRRM really created so many parallels and foreshadow using the DoD characters that honestly we could just figure the asoiaf ending by analyzing it. My favorite is the Aegon III-D@ny parallels, the fact that one of his closest allies was a face-scarred Master of coin Lannister who ended as Hand to Bran' parallel character just make it so obvious its funny.

Oh my god I didn’t even realise Tyland Lannister was initially on the greens’ side! I’m not super fond of Tyrion ending up as Hand, but you’re right that it’s so obviously meant to reference him. There’s so many parallels that it’s a little crazy. I don’t want to say that the second Dance will end exactly as the first did, it’d be a little too neat if history repeated entirely, but you can see so many echoes of it even in the show’s bastardised ending.

“The broken, shattered realm suffered for a while yet, but the Dance of the Dragons was done. Now what awaited the realm was the False Dawn, the Hour of the Wolf, the rule of the regents, and the Broken King.”

(TWOIAF, Aegon II)

I’m not sure what the False Dawn is going to parallel to, it refers to the period of time after Aegon II’s death but before Lord Stark got to King’s Landing, when people thought that peace had finally come. It kind of brings to mind the War for the Dawn, though personally I think that the threat of the Others will be resolved before the Dance is over. The Hour of the Wolf is obviously about House Stark’s rise back to power, and the Broken King is Bran - though if he actually becomes known as Bran the Broken I might end up committing violence ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. 

The parts about Lord Corlys Velaryon are why I’m so hopeful that Jon’s book ending will be completely different from the show’s. He’s arrested for Aegon II’s death by Cregan Stark, even though Cregan had previously declared for Rhaenyra, because as TWOIAF puts it, “to kill a cruel and unjust king in lawful battle was one thing. But foul murder, and the use of poison, was a betrayal against the very gods who had anointed him.”

Corlys didn’t deny his guilt, and expressed no regret. “What I did, I did for the good of the realm. I would do the same again. The madness had to end.”

Cregan Stark declared him to be guilty of murder, regicide, and high treason, and he was sentenced to execution. But many spoke in his defence, even people who had fought against him in the Dance. Baela and Rhaena Targaryen, Corlys’ granddaughters and Aegon III’s half-sisters, convinced Aegon to issue an edict pardoning Lord Velaryon, which Alysanne Blackwood then convinced Cregan to let stand. Lord Velaryon was pardoned and even restored to his offices and honours, made one of the king’s regents and given a place on the small council.

Corlys’ words definitely could be Jon’s as well, a much more in-character declaration post-D@ny’s death than the drivel GoT tried to feed us. I was worried for a bit that this would be how Tyrion is let off scot-free, but Baela and Rhaena, who were vital to his release, are such obvious Arya and Sansa stand-ins, and they’re certainly not going to expend any effort in helping Tyrion. So Corlys’ circumstances more likely lays the groundwork for how Jon will be freed and remain in political power, while Tyland frankly inexplicably becoming Aegon III’s Hand after he was in favour of brutally killing him parallels Tyrion managing to fail up, as a way of reconciling the old regime with the new one.

This makes Tyrion becoming Hand more palatable IMO. Either Jon and Tyrion both should have been punished or neither should have been punished, not the travesty where Tyrion gets everything he’s ever wanted while Jon is exiled to a Watch with no purpose and a Wall that’s already half-collapsed, so what exactly can it protect against? I suppose they were afraid of seemingly rewarding Jon for killing d@ny, especially if pol!Jon had been revealed, but most people noticed how nonsensical his ending was, and it just led to ‘Bloodraven/Bran is the real villain’ takes anyway.

(Side note: Asha/Yara basically still being loyal to D at the end annoys me so much, and made no sense. Jon did more to help save her by giving Theon that pep talk than D@ny did. Maybe it was a leftover from her taking Victarion’s role in the story, but in no reasonable world is anyone going to listen to the Ironborn who brought the Fire threat over in the first place.)

Of course Tyland Lannister isn’t actually Hand for long, given that he dies barely two years later from Winter Fever, feared and hated, alone except for a maester and King Aegon. It might be an indication that Tyrion will face a similar fate, that he’ll die after he’s seemingly won, exactly what he threatened Cersei with:

“A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you'll know the debt is paid."

(ACOK, Tyrion XII)

So that I can stop talking about Tyrion, here’s some facts about Rhaena and Baela that are obviously meant to reference Sansa and Arya, so much so that it feels a little bit like GRRM is winking and going “See what I did there? Huh? Huh? Did you see??”:

- their descriptions: “Rhaena was slender and graceful; Baela was lean and quick; Rhaena loved to dance; Baela lived to ride...” + “Baela was wild and willful”, “more boyish than ladylike”, and kept her hair cropped short as a boy’s

- Rhaena spent most of the Dance in the Vale, where she lived in relative comfort as the ward of Lady Jeyne Arryn. Baela was a dragonrider and so moved between Dragonstone and Driftmark, but was captured on Dragonstone when Aegon II descended upon it

- Rhaena was favoured to be queen after her brother, considered more qualified than her wild sister

- Baela liked to spend time with “unsuitable companions” she would bring to the Red Keep - including a comely juggler, a blacksmith’s apprentice whose muscles she admired (!!!), a legless beggar, a pair of twin girls from a brothel, an entire troupe of mummers once

- After her brother’s regents tried to marry her to a lord 40 years older than her, Baela escaped the Red Keep by climbing out of a window, trading clothes with a washerwoman, then walking right out of the front gate. She ran away to Driftmark and married her supposed cousin (though more likely he was her half-uncle), the legitimised bastard Alyn Velaryon, which might have had me worried about j0nrya if Alyn weren’t best known for being a daring sailor who went on many voyages, including sailing the Sunset Sea, until he was finally lost at sea during Aegon IV’s reign. Alyn’s mother was also called Mouse, for being “small, quick, and always underfoot.”

- another fun fact about Alyn: he’s a bad haggler, and had to agree to a high ransom and many concessions in order to get Prince Viserys returned to Westeros. This automatically disqualifies him as a Jon stand-in, because as we all know, Jon Snow can haggle like the best of fishwives.

- My absolutely favourite detail that has my jonsa heart singing - Rhaena was more dutiful than her sister and would have married a man that the king and council chose, saying that as long as he was “kind and gentle and noble, I know that I shall love him.” She was able to marry her first choice, whom the regents didn’t immediately approve of but that they ultimately accepted  - Ser Corwyn Corbray, the brother of the Lord Protector of the Realm, a second son (!) whose late father had gifted him the Valyrian steel sword Lady Forlorn (!!!)

And as a treat for @istumpysk, some similarities between Rickon and Viserys II!

- the youngest child of their family

- separated from their older brother after they were forced to flee their home, trying to get to safety while their other brothers and mother were at war

- worshipped their oldest (half-)brothers, but were closer to the brother nearest their age

- spends the war stuck on an island, populated by people closely linked to their family’s origins - Skagosi are descended mostly from the First Men, while Viserys was on Lys, where the blood of Old Valyria still runs strong

- sought by/held hostage by a powerful and wealthy family, who will treat them well but whose intentions are dubious

- will be brought back from exile by an upjumped bastard/commoner from a port town who was raised to lordship and became their monarch’s chief admiral

- after they are returned, long after the wars and crises, is happily welcomed as the heir to their older brother’s throne (shhhhh just let me have this, let the baby live)

Thanks for the ask!

[amaryllisblackthorn]

a lot of people have this idea that Annabeth's been like, a Luke apologist and in denial since the very beginning but it's not really true?. Annabeth was angry at Luke for his betrayal in the end of Lightning Thief and during Sea of Monsters. It's only until the end of The Titan's Curse that she starts the 'Luke really isn't that bad' kind of thing.

the end of Lightning Thief:

"I can't believe that Luke..." Annabeth's voice faltered. Her expression turned  angry and sad. "Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him...He was never the same after his quest."

"When I get back next summer," she said, "we'll hunt down Luke. We'll ask for a quest, but if we don't get approval, we'll sneak off and do it anyway. Agreed?"

 She was really angry at him during Sea of Monsters. Her vision from the Sirens does indicate that deep down she may believe she's able to save him, or at least wants to, but it doesn't diminish the hurt and anger she does feel.

"How could you?" Annabeth sounded so angry I thought she'd explode. "Thalia saved your life! Our lives! How could you dishonor her--"

"Liar!"

"I understand you want to destroy the camp!" she yelled. "You're a monster!"

"Because you have none of your own [intelligence]!"

"That's disgusting!" Annabeth said.

"You're insane," Annabeth said.

"Go to Tartarus," she said.

All those above are on the Princess Andromeda with Luke. Then later, to Percy:

She shook her head. "We made a dozen safe houses like this. I doubt Luke even remembers where they are. Or cares."

Even in the beginning-ish of Titan's Curse, she doesn't trust him. When he's struggling under the sky and asking for her help, she's hesitant. It's only when the sky begins to fall  that she goes to help hold it.

Annabeth had tears in her eyes. She reached down like she wanted to touch Luke's face, but at the last second she hesitated. "What happened?" she asked.

"Why should I trust you?" Annabeth asked. Her voice was filled with hurt.

Then the darkness above Luke began to crumble, like a cavern roof in an earthquake. Huge chunks of black rock began falling. Annabeth rushed in just as a crack appeared, and the whole ceiling dropped. She held it somehow--tons of rock. She kept it from collapsing on her and Luke with her own strength.

However!! There's a shift in her feelings by the time Percy and Thalia rescue her and I personally think it's because she's aware that Luke 'saved' her life for the time being after Atlas ordered him to kill her after Artemis took the sky -- even though he was super complicit in her being in that situation in the first place. Compare:

Luke hesitated. "She--she may yet be useful, sir. Further bait."

and

"We'll bring Luke back," Annabeth pleaded. "To Olympus. He...he'll be useful."

I don't think it's a conscious parallel on Annabeth's part per se, but Rick Riordan using the parallel to indicate the connection. I think that's when Annabeth discovers that Luke does still care deep down, and that deep down the person that she knows is there. which is fair, because before this point he hadn’t given her any indication seeing as he literally directed  Oreius to eat her. that’s a whole ‘nother write-up, though, i think. i digress.

Once she knows this, she starts to view him as someone being manipulated and taken advantage of by Kronos, someone who was able to manipulate Ares, a god, in the first book, -- she's not wrong! He is being manipulated. That doesn't absolve him from his horrible behavior especially towards her, but she understands that Luke is a troubled, traumatized young man being taken advantage of by the evil King Titan, and she's also aware that literally no one else cares enough to try to save him.

like, the language Annabeth uses to describe Luke in the end of Titan’s Curse is the same that Percy uses to describe the demigods on the  Titans’ side in Last Olympian. 

"You don't believe me about Luke," Annabeth said, "but we'll see him again. He's in trouble, Percy. He's under Kronos's spell."

vs

I tried to wound his men, not kill. That slowed me down, but these weren’t monsters. They were demigods who’d fallen under Kronos’s spell. I couldn’t see faces under their battle helmets, but some of them had probably been my friends.

there’s another callback with the language Percy uses to describe the opposing demigods in Last Olympian. this time, to what Percy says to Luke at the end of Lightning Thief.

“He’s brainwashing you, Luke.”

“You’re being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don’t listen to Kronos.”

vs

This kid was getting brainwashed—trained to hate the gods and lash out because he’d been born half Olympian. Kronos was using him, and yet the kid thought I was his enemy.

Poseidon put his hand on my shoulder. “Percy, there were only a few demigod warriors aboard that ship, and they all chose to battle for Kronos. Perhaps some heeded your warning and escaped. If they did not . . . they chose their path.”

“They were brainwashed!” I said. “Now they’re dead and Kronos is still alive. That’s supposed to make me feel better?

Percy has sympathy for the demigods manipulated by Kronos to be on the Titan’s sides; he sees them as victims. the reason he doesn’t for Luke, I feel, is because Luke’s betrayal made it personal. I think this is where Percy’s fatal flaw comes into play, honestly, with the personal loyalty. both in regards to the personal betrayal to Percy, as well as Percy’s loyalty to Annabeth (and thus Luke’s betrayal of Annabeth, too). and i feel this also applies, to a lesser extent, to Ethan. but that’s a whole ‘nother write-up, too (one day!)

there is, admittedly, the factor of Luke’s age in comparison to Percy, Annabeth, and most of the other campers. there’s definitely a power imbalance -- especially with Annabeth, which isn’t okay, obviously.  so even though he’s a victim and young himself, that power imbalance in regards to his actions, manipulations, etc is messed up and not okay. 

even so, Luke is still pretty young himself -- not as young as the others, but still young. like, i got into this series when i was younger than Percy and Annabeth were, so Luke, like most early 20 year olds, seemed very old to me in that regard; it’s only as i got older and closer to his are that i started to really realize that heck he was really young. so while Luke is definitely an adult in regards to the relationship he has with Percy, Annabeth, and other younger demigods -- which he should have been mindful of and makes his manipulation etc very messed up and not okay -- he’s also young himself which is something to keep in mind. like, Luke is only around 19-22? in the series. That puts him at a power imbalance in regards to Annabeth and Percy, in which he's very much an adult in the relationship, but outside of that he's still pretty young! he’s a college kid, which when you’re younger seems pretty old but then you are one and realize differently -- his brain hasn't even fully developed yet. but i’m like, seriously digressing. 

my intended point was that i disagree with the interpretation that Annabeth was blinded by emotions and a toxic relationship which led her to make excuses for Luke and unable to see him for what he really was etc,--  because Annabeth was angry at him after his betrayal and had even thought he was different, that he didn’t care anymore. The ‘Luke apologist’ behavior only starts at the end of Titan’s Curse, the third book in the five book series. I just feel like her ... feelings? perspective? position? idk the right word.... is often misrepresented? 

she becomes very defensive over Luke’s ‘inner goodness’ and stuff because she’s literally the only one who wants to save him and knows it. she knows what he’s done isn’t okay, but she keeps driving it home that he’s being manipulated because he is! it doesn’t excuse his actions but it doesn’t have to. by the end of titan’s curse, annabeth sees luke as someone terribly lost and no one trying, willing, or caring enough to save him. and like, she’s right when she sees luke as someone who isn’t beyond saving, who’s extremely lost and being manipulated through his trauma and anger -- it doesn’t excuse what he’s doing but that doesn’t make him someone not worthy of saving. despite what he’s done, luke is still her family and she will fight for him. she sees luke the same way percy sees the other opposing demigods in the last olympian and she’s right. she’s not making excuses for him, she doesn’t think he’s done nothing wrong, she’s just not willing to give up on him and she was right. as the child in the relationship/dynamic, it wasn’t her responsibility to be the one to save him and shouldn’t have been, but she wasn’t wrong in how she saw Luke.

 like, their was definitely a power imbalance in their relationship and it’s definitely important to acknowledge that, but i feel like people tend to like, erase annabeth’s agency, for lack of a better word, and attribute her desire to save Luke as being tragically misplaced? like, Luke has totally wronged Annabeth and mistreated her terribly, but like...I find her not giving up on him mostly admirable and not pitiable, though like I said as the child in their dynamic it wasn’t her responsibility.  i’m rambling though.

mostly this post was made to remind people that Annabeth was angry towards Luke, and rightfully so, until near the end of Titan’s Curse, which is where her defending Luke and insisting he could be saved really started, likely with Luke indicating he actually still cared deep down for the first time being the catalyst.  especially since it seems a lot of people give like the impression they think she’s done it from the very beginning? idk ive definitely rambled a lot and lost my main point sometime ago or something. enjoy this anyway.

[barnesandco]

Little Hands (IV)

Series Masterlist

Communication is key.

This is an entry for @star-spangled-bingo 2021. Word count: 2248. Square filled: “Sung to Sleep”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: More Hydra Evilness, More Sad Child, Parental Anxieties. Brief mentions of war, sickness, death, grief. 

A/N: I know 2.2k words isn’t objectively a lot but boy did this feel like it. I hope every word is worth it and that you enjoy! Lmk what you think!!! Also I won’t even lie, the idea of Steve’s kids is 100% from one of my favorite comfort fics, family means no one gets left behind or forgotten, by the genius, the wonderful cosmicocean. IT’S SO SOFT. Pls read it.

You’re stunned when Bucky tells you what’s going on. The idea that his daughter (?) was made in a lab like some kind of experiment, and that the man who led said experiment now wants her back like she is his property, his weapon, is too horrid to consider for very long. Weaponizing an innocent child. Hydra.

Bucky gave you the broad strokes of the investigation – currently running on little more than educated guesses based on the meagre intel they have – and has let you know that he has had to recuse himself from the case, due to his… personal connection. That leaves him somewhere he finds awkward, to say the least.

It's evident in the way the corners of his lips turn down, how he is constantly rubbing the pads of his fingers against the coarse scratch of denim, while he watches Ana watch Zoya, Steve’s 17-year-old daughter, working on a tablet. Zoya tucks a strand of hair behind her hijab, then continues to draw up a storyboard, narrating the events to the younger girl. Steve had apparently forgotten the lunch his kids had made him at home, so Zoya had brought it in, and decided to stay the day.

Ana’s quiet, attentive for the most part, listening with her full capabilities, but her eyes flit away from the screen every now and then to look at you and Bucky, as if to reassure herself that you’re still there.

Besides that, there aren’t all that many distractions present for an already precocious child. Most of the team has dispersed for the investigation, with the exception of Peter, who is sat at a table in the corner making intentionally fruitless efforts at teaching Morgan chess, while she giggles and tries to stack the pieces like Jenga blocks instead.

However, Bucky’s restlessness is infectious, and you think he needs to get it under check before it grows any further. That’s why you stand, saying, “Could we go for a little walk, Bucky?”

He nods, man of few words that he is, and leads the way. You’re sure he knows that you formulated it like a request for his benefit, but he doesn’t mention it. It’s just as well – that he knows you like that, and knows when to accept the proverbial hand being offered.

Bucky takes you to a corner of the roof that you’d mistake for a community garden if you didn’t know any better. The Avengers seem to have green thumbs, or at least, a significant portion of them do. They’re good with plants, and possessive about them, too. Autumn ferns grow outside the circle they seem to have been planted in – with a sign shouting Wanda! – to invade the territory of a vegetable garden labelled Bruce (accompanied by a Hulkish, green thumbs up presumably not drawn by the man himself).  

Meticulously maintained daylilies and columbines, in vivid reds and vibrant purples, litter the edges of the path that has been carved through this little paradise, and the birdhouses between them stake the claim of the owner more effectively than a neon sign screaming Sam Wilson. Bucky’s told you about his abilities, how they veer into the decidedly supernatural but Sam insists are only the residue of a childhood with homing pigeons.

Nothing here looks like Bucky’s, though. He seems to be taking it in, perhaps thinking about his own little paradise back in the city, and how he’s chosen to keep it distant from that of his teammates. That worries you. He worries you.

And this, the situation with Anastasia, becoming a father, it’s terrifying. Hell, if it scares you this much, how is he feeling? You ask him as much.

“Bucky, are you okay?”

He laughs, softly, disbelievingly, no malice in his scoff, only fear. Only the sound of a voice saturated with consternation and total, complete anxiety. “Would you be?” He asks back.

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Bucky evades the questions, turning first one way on the path, and then the other, approaching the edge clear of shrubbery and blooms alike, resting his palms on the top of the wall.

“I can’t be a father.”

The solemnity in his tone allows no room for negotiations, but then, neither do the facts. “You are,” you reply, somewhat hesitantly, because the technicalities of how Ana came to be are still a little blurry to you. She’s far from a normal child, and not quite a clone, either. She is of Bucky, though. His, in any way that counts.

“That little girl was created in a Hydra lab as a super soldier to serve the cause,” he says, shaking his head vigorously as the cause repulses him even more than it does you. “And who knows what else she was put through before SHIELD fell and Orlov got her out, and it’s my fault.”

“You didn’t—”

“I didn’t ask for it to happen but it wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t happened. They used me to make a super soldier from scratch, and now I’m supposed to raise her? It’s not that simple. I’m not Steve. I can’t…”

Being honest, you feel you’re pretty far out of your depth here. But you’ve promised him your help, and you’ll do your best.

“You don’t have to. There are other options.” You’re sure you’re overstepping. Perhaps this gentle companionship has not yet reached the point where you can give advice on parenting. But if you don’t, who will? Steve, whose answers don’t enter the gray territory Bucky’s mind is residing in right now, who parents like he was born for it?

Steve chose fatherhood. Bucky has been nailed to it like it’s a new cross to bear, heavier than all the previous ones put together.

His gaze roams the grounds that stretch as far as you can see. You’re both far away from home right now, far outside your comfort zones.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess, sweetheart. It’s not right. You have things to do, and I shouldn’t have—”

“Bucky, I’ve been staring at the same four sentences of dialogue for the past month. I literally could not have been happier to get out of the house. Even if I do wish it was under better circumstances,” you say fervently. You’re here because he needs you. Because Ana needs you. It’s nice to be needed.

“That’s one way to put it,” he smiles, and you’re glad to see it.

“Not to mention, it’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault except whoever your team is looking for,” you insist. “And Ana’s a sweet girl. A little quiet, but Baba says I was, too.”

This, Bucky thinks about. You wonder if he was a quiet child, too. “What’s he like?”

“Hmm?” The reverie snaps like a rubber band.

“Your father?” Bucky asks, shyly, his eyes meeting yours, letting you know exactly why he’s asking.

You look up at the clouds, think back to Boston, to time shared between the library and the park. A childhood with books, lunch breaks under a desk in an office at MIT, stealing his glasses and running away with them, rubbing at his stubbly beard like he was a housecat. Inside jokes with your father and rolled eyes with your mother. Laughter and tears, laughter with tears.

After a long while, trying and failing to summarize your father, you say, “A jokester. The most sarcastic person I know. But still kind of neurotic, to be honest. The kind of parent that makes you show up at the airport a full four hours before your flight.” It’s grossly insufficient. For a writer, you’re not very good with words. You suppose it’s not the words that are the problem; it’s the lifetime they have to encompass. “What about yours?”

Bucky sighs. “Soldier. He’s one thing I don’t feel bad for not remembering because it wasn’t Hydra that wiped those memories. He just died when I was really small. Survived the Great War only to be killed by TB a few years later at home.”

“I’m sorry.” You avert your eyes. Grief feels private, even decades later, even in the smallest doses.

He shakes his head, smiles fondly, up at the sky, too, like you did. Only, he’s smiling at it, like he’s thinking of someone beyond the clouds. “Don’t be. Was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t allowed to hurt anymore.”

“You sound like my therapist.”

“I sound like my therapist.”

At this, the two of you look at each other and burst into laughter. It feels forbidden, as though the severity of the situation condemns joy. That isn’t fair, you think. The situation is that of a child, and nobody needs laughter more than kids do. Food for the soul.

When the echo of your exhilarations falls, Bucky grows serious once more. “They have them for kids, now, too, right?” He asks, referring to therapists. “Do you think Anastasia should see one? She’s not exactly… normal, you know?”

“Maybe.” It’s a difficult question, but a good indicator of how Bucky is growing to feel about Ana. “You’d make a good dad, if you wanted to be one, Bucky,” you say, and mean it. It’s plain as day that he cares about her.

“I can’t even remember my own.”

“Parental instincts are intuitive, not genetic,” you tell him.

“You been reading handbooks?” He teases.

“You’d be surprised by how much you learn from the rabbit holes you fall down while researching books,” you deadpan.

“Can any of that research get the nightmares out of my head? I think it might scare a kid.”

The self-deprecation hurts, but your response is honest, heartfelt. “She likes you already.”

“She won’t if she thinks I’ve run away,” he answers, straightening up. He might be trying to evade the conversation, but you’ll let him, for now. He’s gotten some fresh air, had some time to clear his thoughts, or sort them, at least. And so you return, to the little girl who has a tighter grip on both of you than you even realize.

------

Ana grows unsettled as night darkens the sky. It could be the ruckus she isn’t quite used to. It could be the toy fire truck Tony has been altering with his utensils to increase its noise output, much to Morgan’s amusement. It could be the actual parrot perched on Sam’s shoulder.

Whatever the cause, she hasn’t succumbed to it enough to make a seat out of the fridge again. She’s sitting in her seat, between Bucky and yourself, eating the hummus Bruce and Wanda have made. Nat discusses sniper scopes with Clint, Peter tries to get away with eating the side of vegetables on Jordan’s plate without Steve noticing, and Bucky eats silently, eyes almost constantly on Anastasia, who takes it all in while her knee bounces up and down with an ever-increasing speed, much like her father’s.

You excuse yourselves soon after dessert, after Morgan has fallen asleep against Jordan’s arm on the couch, and Steve and Tony’s friendly debate is starting to develop the edge it tends to when they’ve been bantering for too long.

Bucky sets up on the sectional in his room, and leaves the ridiculously large double bed to you and Anastasia. It’s been a strange, strange day, and one can only hope that tomorrow brings some ease, a balm for the prickly, fiery ache that has settled over the man you care so much about.

------

When you wake, it’s because of singing. For half a moment, you think you’re in a dream, but as your eyes adjust to the blanket of dark, you see the shadow on the sofa nearby. Only, it’s bigger than just Bucky. Anastasia is sitting on his lap, her head cushioned against his chest. Scrambling for your glasses, and turning on the lamp on the bedside table, you notice that there are trails of drying tears on her little cheeks, and she’s still shaking with the aftershocks of whatever scare she must’ve had during the night.

Not for the first time, you curse your deep sleep that meant you didn’t wake with Ana, but watch in wonder as Bucky sings.

Hush, little baby, don't say a word Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird

And if that mockingbird won't sing Papa's going to buy you a diamond ring

Ana’s eyes begin to close, but she fights the sleep. Bucky doesn’t let her. He lies down, easing her down beside himself, singing all the while.

And if that diamond ring turns brass Papa's going to buy you a looking glass

And if that looking glass gets broke Papa's going to buy you a billy goat

His voice fills the room, low though it may be, and he curls himself around Ana.

And if that billy goat won't pull Papa's going to buy you a cart and bull

And if that cart and bull turn over Papa's going to buy you a dog named Rover

She succumbs to the lull of his tone, his song, his promises, sighs a little sigh, lets the last, little hiccup leave her body.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark Papa's going to buy you a horse and cart

And if that horse and cart fall down You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town

Bucky lifts his hand from where it was stroking the hair at her temple, and lays his arm over his daughter. They’re safe, for now. Together.

[comphersjost]

All For You (4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty did it for you) ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

reahi, i had an idea and opened a document and i couldnt stop writing, this is what came out. it was edited but i made a lot of changes after, so please forgive any mistakes, typos, plot holes, etc. enjoy :)

Finally fed up with pining over your best friend from afar, you enlist the help of Matthew to help you get the guy - you’re just not really sure who the guy is anymore. Or: 4 times you tried to tell Brady you loved him, and the one time Matty told him for you.

word cout: 5.1k (sorry lmao)

warnings: a LOT of angst, like a lot. smut, nothing as wild as ive written before, car sex, cockwarming, etc. etc. usual cussing, love triangles ig? alcohol, super brief mention of weed, mentions of sex while drunk/high

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

I.

You tried to take Matty’s smile and what was supposed to be an encouraging nod to heart, and let it boost your with confidence. But it didn't. It really, really didn't. You could see Brady on the other side of the room, smiling down at your mom the way he always did. It was that smile he reserved for your parents, the charming, boyish, smile. It was the same smile that got your parents to let you out of the house late in high school even though you were grounded. It was the smile you got to see sitting on your rooftop just a little too tipsy at 2 in the morning. The same smile you wished you could kiss right off his face. 

Brady glances up from your mom’s face for a moment, and catches your eyes. His smile widens impossibly, and you watch him excuse himself from your mother. She smiles knowingly at you, a gentle sparkle in her eye as Brady finds his way towards you.

You latch onto him as soon as you're in his arms, pressing yourself to him, closer closer closer. “Hi,” you hear him mumble against the top of your head. 

“Hi, B,” you breathe back, barely audible over the chatter in the room. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, buttercup,” Brady beams down at you, squeezing your shoulders again. 

Your throat dries up as you stare up at him. You always loved the way his eyes crinkled shut when he smiled big like he was now. A tiny part of you wants to say fuck it and stand up on the tips of your toes to kiss him full on the mouth. You feel yourself swallow, your mouth opens and you want to get the words out, just like Matthew said you could. 

“Listen, Brady I-” 

“Y/N I want you to meet someone.” 

You and Brady spoke at the same time, and rather than let you finish your sentence, Brady lets you out of his arms, resting his hand against your lower back and leading you somewhere deeper into the house. 

“I want you to meet my friend,” he continues, “I know you haven't seen anyone since… but anyways, yeah I think you might like him.” Your lips remain parted, the words stuck in your throat. Of all the things you expected coming to the Tkachuk house tonight, of everything you could have thought might happen during your plan to confess your feelings to your best friend, an off-handed mention of your piece of shit ex-boyfriend and Brady attempting to set you up with someone was far from it.  

Your eyes are hazy, your focus far from the situation at hand, even as you let Brady introduce you to his friend. You barely remember the poor kid’s name, too caught up in trying to keep your shit together. Your eyes find Matthew’s, hating the sympathetic smile on his lips. 

You don't want his pity. It just makes you feel worse. You turn abruptly to Brady’s friend and stop him mid-sentence. “I’m really sorry,” you say, “I just don't think this is going to work out, I have my eyes on someone else.” He doesn't say anything as you walk away, bee-lining straight for Matthew. 

You grab his forearm, ignoring his protests when you drag him out to the backyard. 

“Why did he do that?” you say once you're outside. “Why did he introduce me to someone that I could date? What if you're wrong, Matty? What if he doesn't like me like you think he does?” 

Matthew didn't have an answer for that. He did know one thing though. 

“Then he’s an idiot, Y/N, and he can't see a good thing, a great thing, even when she's right in front of him.” You let out a wet laugh, trying your best not to read too deep into what Brady had tried to do tonight. Instead you let him tuck a strand behind your ear and pull you into a comforting hug, the both of you unaware of Brady’s eyes on you, a smile tugging at his lips at the thought of you two together. 

II.

Ottawa playing a game against Calgary meant you had to cancel any and all plans you had for that weekend. The whole Tkachuk family couldn't make it from St. Louis, but you living in Calgary made up for it. You were shaking with excitement - you hadn't seen Brady in a month and a half, since that horrible attempt at telling him how you felt. You hoped that this time would be different. 

The arms that wrap around your waist in the middle of the hotel lobby are all too familiar to alarm you. 

“Hi, buttercup,” comes the soft whisper, and you can't even attempt to fight the smile that pulls at your lips. 

“Hi, Brady,” you whisper back, feeling Brady loosen his hold on your so you could twist around in his grip. “You've been gone too long.” 

“Hmm, I know,” Brady hums, kissing your hairline gently. “I'm sorry I'm not visiting as much, you know it has nothing to do with you right?” 

“I know, Brady,” you reassure him. “I just miss you.” I love you. The thought is screaming in your head, begging for you to let out.

I love you I love you I love you

“Just say the three little words, Y/N, tell him how you feel.” Those were Matty’s words, just this morning when you had a crisis about seeing Brady again. You paced across the floor of his living room, the walls and tables all over his apartment covered in jerseys and odd paraphernalia he’d acquired over his time playing in the NHL.

“I can't, Matty, what if he,” you gasped for air at the idea, “what if he doesn't love me back, I don't think I could handle that.” 

Matt had laughed at you this morning, assuring that to the best of his knowledge (and he knew his brother pretty damn well), Brady was in love with you too. Besides, he'd said, even if he wasn't in love with you back there was nothing you could do to make him want to stop being friends with you. 

Brady pulls away from you, preparing to head to whatever restaurant you were supposed to meet Matthew at. 

“So, Brady, there was something that I-” 

“Hey, what's this?” Brady’s curious expression made you pause. He tugs the fabric of your sweater down a little by your chest, exposing your collarbone, and a dark purple mark you hadn't meant for anyone to see. Your blood runs cold, knowing exactly where that's from. 

Matthew had given it to you, when the both of you had gotten just a little too wine drunk and you'd ended up in his lap. It was ironic really, you'd been discussing how to drop more hints to Brady about how you feel about him. He'd been helping you with that dilemma since the summer. And then last Sunday, you'd been over at his place for dinner, and the night had ended with him grabbing handfuls of your ass while you whined desperately against his mouth. 

There was no way you could tell Brady how you felt now, not with him having just asked about the bruise his brother had left on your skin. 

“You and my brother finally getting it on?” Brady says suggestively, a shit eating grin on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You feel like a deer stuck in the headlights. 

“Why would you even say that?” you snap, ignoring the way he recoils, lips parted and eyes wide in surprise. “Come on we have to go meet your brother for dinner.” 

III. 

You and Matthew had bought your plane tickets home for Christmas together, deciding that it made more sense since you both lived in Calgary and were going home to the same neighborhood. Brady’s flight was coming in the day after. You’d been spending most of your time at the Tkachuk house, lounging around with Matthew. You’d hung around their house to stay out of your mom’s way, knowing having people around would only just stress her out as she prepared for your whole family to come home. 

Today was the day Brady’s flight was coming in. Chantal and Keith chose to spend the day out shopping before heading to the airport to pick up Brady late in the afternoon. Taryn was spending the day at her friend’s house, leaving you and Matthew alone in the house.

Which, you should have known it was a bad idea. You swore it was nothing between you and Matt, you swore it was just about Matt helping you get the guy, get Brady. But it seemed like the more you, Matt, and alcohol were all involved, you ended up in precarious positions. 

Today you chose not to drink, hooded eyes watching Matt take another drink of whatever liquor he’d chosen this time, before your gaze slid back to the pipe in your hand, lighter dangling between two fingers. You knew how this would end, you and Matt would get wasted, you’d fuck, rough, hard, fast, desperate, and then you would go back to pretending it never happened, went back to him helping you with getting Brady to notice your interest. You didn't talk about it, and you were almost always some kind of inhibited. 

You refused to fuck Matthew in his childhood bedroom, arguing that it was bad karma. He laughed at you then, a soft laugh, clear of any indication that Matt is drunk out of his mind. The laugh is too innocent of a laugh for the way his voice lowers after it ends. He talks you into it, seduces you more like. He’s got you sliding into the backseat of a beat up old Toyota Corolla, his first car (“And how exactly is that any better than your childhood bedroom, Matty?). He tells you that you have hours alone in the house before anyone comes home and you might as well pass the time. 

The talking and seducing turns into heated, sloppy kisses. You giggle against his mouth, tugging at the curls at the back of his head while avoiding the thought that you swore to yourself you would tell Brady how you felt when he got home tonight. But then Matthew’s lips trailed away from your mouth, over your jaw, your cheek, the curve of your throat, and any thought of Brady was gone. 

The messy kisses turned into you riding Matt, his old car rocking back and forth as you bounced on his dick. He kisses you to quiet his moans. No one was supposed to be home for hours but, just in case. He's got you whining desperately while you clench around him, his giant hands squeezing your hips. He guides you up and down on his cock, relishing in the way your body moves the way he wants without a fight. 

I bet Brady couldn't fuck you like I can. 

The thought flashes through his brain before he can stop it, and then it's like someone put a red tint on his world view. You belonged to him. Matthew’s possessive rage has him fucking harder into you, his hands falling from your hips to your ass to slam you forcefully down on him. Growls fall from his lips, the thought of his younger brother fucking you making him intent on bringing you to as many orgasms as possible. That thought is also what made his teeth come down on your skin. He sucks and bites into your skin all over your chest, leaving marks that would expose that you were having sex with someone to anyone who saw - that would expose you to Brady. 

You let out almost a squeal when you cum, clenching around Matthew’s cock and sobbing desperately. You don't see the smug grin on his face when he watches you cum, only letting him keep doing what he's doing because it just feels so damn good. 

Matt follows through on his mental promise, fucking you through as many orgasms as he could (5, the last time he checked, he lost count). His hands flex over your ass, sighing contentedly as he pulls you so that you sink all the way back down on his cock. He pulls you to his chest, nuzzling into you as the two of you doze off. 

Brady finds you that way, seeing the way you’re nuzzled into his brother’s chest through the windshield. The fact that he only saw you through the windshield protected him from seeing the most incriminating part, Matthew’s cock, still stuffed all the way inside of you. He can still see the bare skin of yours and Matt’s shoulders, so he opts out of waking you up, instead heading towards his room to shower off that airport smell and nap, a devastatingly pretty blonde attached to his hip. 

When you wake up, you feel groggy, but more sober than before. After you moaned pathetically when Matthew lifted you off of his cock, the two of you snuck back inside the house, managing to get you out the door and back to your house, and Matthew to his room. When you and your family made their way over for dinner later that night (the hickies and bruises on your skin successfully covered up), you feel your heart twist in your chest at what - or rather, who - greets you there. 

“Y/N! Hey!” Brady sounds so excited, so you humor him, hiding the way it feels like you're about to explode into a million little shreds. “This is my girlfriend, Autumn.” 

And - you really can't hate her. She's so nice, so incredibly kind and radiant and you really don't blame Brady for not taking his eyes off her the whole night. You didn't even know he was bringing her. Matthew catches your eyes, shaking his head sadly and mouthing I didn’t know. 

You shrug, your gaze falling back to the design on the carpet, how the spirals of each shape in the carpet almost mirror your heart, spiraling out and falling apart before your eyes. 

Matt’s gaze remains on you. Something about seeing your skin clear and bare after he had taken such good care to leave as many marks as possible didn't sit right with him. It made his gut twist; he wanted everyone to know. He wanted Brady to know. 

You hate the unpleasant feeling in your gut every time Autumn says something. And you really hate the way Brady smiles apologetically at you when you pulled him aside to say “You never told me you were seeing someone.” 

You just had to get through this night and then it was back to Calgary. 

IV.

Of all traditions your family has with Tkachuks, the vacations are your favorite. 

You're in California this offseason, renting a house in some random, tourist-attracting beach town. Both your families had always done something similar to this (letting the boys take care of a large chunk of it now that they're on NHL salaries), renting 2 houses and splitting you up between the parents and you and the Tkachuk kids once you were old enough. 

Brady had broken up with Autumn in May, which you couldn't be more thankful for, knowing that had that not happened she would've been on this vacation. “Nothing terrible happened,” he assured you over the phone that day. “She's an amazing girl, she really is, she's just...she's not the one for me.” 

You were glad he couldn't see the smile that pulled at your lips at those words.

As for Matthew...well, you'd barely done as much as look at him since Christmas, not wanting to fall back into the habit of sleeping with him whenever you managed to get drunk enough to forget Brady’s existence for half a second. 

But now Brady and Taryn are at the beach, meeting up with some friends they somehow convinced to drive up from Orange County, and you were laying outside in the rented house’s backyard on one of the pool chairs. You’d opted to stay home this time, having spent almost every minute of this vacation attached to Brady at the hip. 

It was pathetic, almost, the way you followed him around. Matt thought so, at least. What he thought was even more pathetic though, was the way Brady had the perfect fucking woman in front of him - pining after him even - and he still couldn't see it, no matter how hard you and Matt tried to make him. 

Matt hates that he finds himself wishing that the whiny voice you used to get Brady to do things you wanted was following him around instead, like the incessant bug he'd teased you about being when you whined for the millionth time to Brady that it was hot. 

Brady had looked at you all soft in the moment, leaning down to kiss your forehead before placing his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him. “Not hot enough for you not to cuddle with me,” he’d said, your giggles prompting him to tickle your sides until you'd both forgotten about your complaining. 

“Y/N, you left your water bottle outside,” Matthew says abruptly, adding on a “by the way” so you two would stop staring at him like he interrupted something. Like he wasn't even supposed to be there. 

“Oh,” the realization makes you frown, and the pout that accompanies your furrowed brows almost make him combust from how cute you look. “Didn't know you noticed I left it out there.” 

Brady keeps his arm around you as he lets you take him back outside for the water bottle, making you miss the way Matt whispers “I always notice.”

- 

You briefly wondered what Matthew was doing, before the question was answered for you by a soft sensation against your knee. His lips trailed up your thigh, nosing at your skin before pressing another open-mouthed kiss into your thigh, making your eyes flutter open briefly. It's hot, your skin feels like it's on fire, buzzing, like you're vibrating from the inside out. 

Even with the sun washing over you the way that it is, the fire you feel on your tanned skin, Matthew’s lips make you burn. He makes you ache, the way he hasn't touched you like this in months. 

“Everyone is gone for the day,” he murmurs against you, kisses becoming more frequent across your hips. “All of them. I could fuck you and make you scream and no one would know.” His words make you shudder, your back arching as his lips traveled upwards, teeth coming out to mark you up all over your tits. “So pretty like this baby, when I mark you up like that.” 

You know that if you don't stop him now, Matt will get you in his bed - he would get you in his bed and then from there he'd take you apart with his fingers, his cock, his mouth. Then he’d use that same damn mouth that got you into bed with him to talk you into staying there. And as much as you love Brady… you can't resist him. You place your hand on his shoulder, his skin is warm, and it takes everything out of you to push him away. 

“Matty, stop, Matthew, stop it.” Suddenly you can feel the sun back on your skin, Matthew having retreated from you completely. 

“What's wrong?” he says softly, “Please, what did I do?” 

“Nothing,” you lie, closing your eyes again so you wouldn't have to look at him as you say your next words. “I'm telling Brady how I feel. Tonight. No matter what happens I’m telling him tonight.” 

“Oh. Good luck, then, I guess.” That's all Matthew says, then there's a shuffling noise and silence. Then the slam of the sliding door to the kitchen. 

You shift uncomfortably and turn your thoughts back to Brady. 

It’s later, when you’re curled up against Brady’s chest with a random movie playing on tv that you get cold feet. It’s just you and him, on the couch of the first floor of the house. Matthew is God knows where, and Taryn still hadn't gotten back from her friend’s house. This moment on the couch with him is perfect, it feels so domestic. You don't want to ruin this moment by telling him how you feel, and potentially - probably - being rejected. 

You promised yourself. 

You take a deep breath, ready to blurt out those three little words, and then - 

“So, you and my brother huh?” Brady murmurs, eyes remaining trained on the action scene on the screen in front of him. “I know you got defensive last time I mentioned it but you guys are good together, and I'm glad you finally see it.”

You feel like you can't breathe, your throat choking up. You want to cry, yell, scream, something to just let him know that you love him. 

“Actually, Brady -”

“Hey, don't worry it’s okay,” Brady laughs, reassuring you and pulling you closer to squeeze you. “I promise, I've seen you with him, and I think you guys are good together, don't worry about it.” You fall silent, not really knowing how to work your way out of this one. 

“We’re not together,” you say quietly, and you had the way Brady’s hum of acknowledgment sounds like he doesn't believe you. You give up on telling him tonight.

+1 

The expression on Brady’s face drops when he meets your eyes across the table. You were just so tired. And you knew that he could see it in your face. What with work absolutely kicking your ass, to the point where you were barely able to get this week off to come home to St. Louis. It’s the end of summer, which means you and Brady were about to go through months of hectic schedules and voicemails that say “Hey, sorry I just missed your call, life has been crazy lately.” Your gaze falls from the lines of Brady's face to the seat at his right side.

Autumn smiles at you, and you hate the way the warmth that radiates from her feels like a knife twisting deeper into your gut. You hate yourself for how much you hate Autumn, you know she doesn't deserve it. Brady catches your eye again, a brief flash of recognition sliding across his face before it's gone. You'd been avoiding him for the past three days since you got here, and you almost felt guilty for it. 

Matt’s hand gripping your thigh draws your attention away from Brady. He squeezes your thigh, smiling reassuringly at you and bumping your shoulder gently. It’s when Autumn finally stands from the table, smiling sweetly at Keith and Chantal, that you release the breath you'd been holding in all night. Brady says he's going to walk her out, a car waiting for her outside to take her to the airport back to Ottawa. 

You don't fight it when Matthew tells you to head downstairs and he and Taryn could take care of the cleaning up. You curl up on the couch in the basement, stealing Matt’s Flames hoodie off the back of a chair and a blanket from the closet. Your eyes flutter shut to the muted noises of the dishes clinking together. 

You let your eyes flutter closed, only opening them again when you feel a warm heat slide in beside you. You hum when Matt kisses your temple softly. 

“You okay?” he nudges you gently, stealing the end of your blanket to cover his legs. 

“Yeah, just tired,” you mumble back, voice muffled by the pillow your face is half-buried in. You know Matthew knows better than to believe your blatant lie, but you're okay with the way he chooses to move past it and not make you talk about it. 

The two of you lounge on the couch silently, Matt switching on some Netflix show he’d been watching after you heard Taryn say she was going to bed. You tried not to think about how long Brady was taking upstairs with Autumn. 

They'd gotten back together over the summer, she’d reached out to him before he left for the off season, which he failed to mention until it was nearly over. Against both yours, Matthew’s, and Taryn’s advice, Brady had bought a plane ticket back to Ottawa, saying that he might as well give it a shot. 

Matthew had held you when you cried that night, Taryn bringing the two of you water and food when it was clear you weren't leaving his room, much less his arms. 

He wanted to hold you right now too, god how he wanted to hold you. But he couldn't, not with Brady due back any second from waiting out front for Autumn's ride. He couldn't risk Brady seeing the two of you, not again. 

Brady had made comments here and there about Matt’s relationship with you. No matter how much Matt insisted that the two of you weren't involved, Brady wasn't convinced, insisting that he was okay with it. 

But right now, in this moment, he wanted to believe him. Matt’s hands ached to touch you, hold you, draw patterns on your skin, he yearned for it. He wanted - he needed to make sure that you knew that everything was going to be okay. Just as his resolve starts to crumble, his hands twitching in his lap as he begins to reach for you, a voice comes from the stairs. 

“We should talk - right?” Brady is talking to you, making you open your eyes to look at him. “Like - things are weird, have been weird, and we have to talk about it right?” 

You nodded silently, shifting in your spot so that you're sitting up, any physical contact you had with Matt now lost. “Yeah,” your voice comes out small, a whisper, and then stronger, firmer. “Yeah, we need to talk.” 

This is it.

The silence in the room is almost unbearable, and you're unable to choke the words out. Brady stares at you, while you stare down at your hands. Matt refuses to look at either of you, gaze trained on the wall behind the TV, jaw clenched so tightly that if your eyes were on him you'd tell him he was about to break his teeth. 

“Is this about you and Matt?” The words come out of nowhere, and it feels like you've been slapped. 

“What?” Matt’s head snaps towards Brady, as does yours.

“No, really,” Brady says, “Did you guys break up oh something?

“What are you talking about Brady?” You can't stop the frustration from seeping into your voice. “That's not what this is -” 

“‘Cause you know I’m okay with you guys together,” Brady continues obliviously, “I keep telling both of you that it's fine but I don't get why you insist on-” 

“Oh my god you idiot!” Matt’s outburst shuts Brady up pretty quickly, leaving the younger brother staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. Matt looks at you and his eyes are sad, regret and apologies already written all over his face for what he's about to say next. “She's in love with you.” 

He speaks so quietly you almost don't hear the second part of his statement. 

“And I’m in love with her.”

Time screeches to a halt. You're convinced it's a dream, nearly pinching yourself to prove that it is. Brady is staring at Matt now, and you're staring at the ground. 

“You're lying.” You don't believe the words you're saying either, and neither do Matt and Brady. 

“I love you.” He's telling the truth, you can hear it in his voice. 

“Stop.”

“I love you and you love him.” 

“Stop it!” 

“I love you, and, fuck - Y/N, it’s simultaneously the best and worst thing that’s ever fucking happened to me.”

“Please! Matty, please! Just stop!”

“Is he telling the truth?” This time it’s Brady. His voice quivers with every word. Like he doesn’t want it to be true. “You're in love with me?” 

You wrap your arms around your torso, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping - praying - that when you opened your eyes, this would all be over and you'd wake up in your bed. But when you opened your eyes again, you were still on the couch in the Tkachuk’s basement, blanket tangled between you and Matt. 

“You should have let me tell him,” you say to Matt, ignoring Brady’s question, still lingering in the air. “I wanted to be the one to tell him, you knew that.” 

“Well, he hasn't been letting you, now has he?” Matt snaps back at you, the regret showing up on his face almost instantaneously. “Baby…” 

The name slips out on accident, he doesn't mean to say, and he sure as hell doesn't mean for Brady to hear it. 

“Okay, what the hell is going on here?” Brady finally yells, fed up with being kept in the dark. “What the fuck are you guys talking about?” 

“I don't-” you start to say, trying to say it before Matt does. 

“She loves you, okay?” Matt grabs your hand for a moment when he starts to speak, giving it a squeeze before taking his own hand back again. “She loves you in more than a friend way, and we’ve spent nearly the last year trying to get her to tell you but every time - every time Brady! - some stupid shit happens, like you trying to hook her up with someone, or - oh, I don't know - randomly springing your girlfriend on us!” 

“That was one time!” Brady argues, “Besides you were the only one who knew Autumn was coming, why are you even mad?” You flinch at the mention of her name, but freeze at what comes after. 

“What?” 

Matt looks like he's been caught red handed - and he has, really. He just didn't mean for you to find out this way. He didn't mean for you to find out any of this the way that you just did. 

“I can explain -”  

“Please don't,” you stand up just as Matt is reaching for you. “I don't want an explanation. I don't - I just want to - I’m going home.” 

While Brady doesn’t even look at you, Matt nearly lunges for you when you walk away from the couch. Walk away from him. He hates the way the thought stings. He barely manages to brush his fingertips against the red fabric of his hoodie before you're halfway up the stairs and the door to the basement slams shut. 

[liquidstar]

im not really heavily involved in this discourse so sorry if ive missed some major stuff, but all the post ive seen floating around my dash about tone indicators float to some very severe extremes? like

some posts are like “tone indicators and using them at all is inherently abelist, because youre talking down to neurodivergent people while also expecting them to memorize a bunch of letters all at once, and effectively making a whole new set of social rules for them to follow, effectively defeating the purpose” while other posts counter with “being critical of tone indicators is inherently ableist, because theyre incredibly helpful since many neurodiversity people have a hard time parsing the intent and tone of things, especially over text, and these put people at ease and help them avoid miscommunications and confusion” 

and i have to say that i agree with both sides to a degree here, but the issue is that they’re both such all-or-nothing approaches to the issues at hand. because you simply cant over-generalize the needs of ALL neurodiverse people, one person may need it as a helpful accessibility tool, while to another it may make things more complicated and inaccessible. denying it to the first person is unhelpful at best, while forcing it on the second person is patronizing at best. and downright abelist at worst, in both cases. and both people in question are very much on the same side here and should not be arguing about who deserves to have their needs met- they both do!

in cases like this all you have to do is listen to people on the individual level, what do they need, and how can you help them out. communicate with your friends and mutuals and all that, be courteous to the individual and dont lump everyones needs together. and when you’re making public posts, just keep it general. in some cases the joke is super obvious and i agree that you dont have to talk down to neurodiverse people by over-using tone indicators, but if you feel there’s still room for any ambiguity at all just use the common ones like /j and /s and /nbh, or casually say “this isnt about anyone here by the way” or “just kidding lol” or whatever feels natural. its really not this super complicated thing. stick to the simple general stuff to avoid making it difficult for people who cant keep up with tone indicators, while still making it easy for the people who need them.

though i do agree that giving people a list of stuff to memorize overnight really is is incredibly inaccessible to many people (like im dyslexic among other things, im not memorizing all these new letters even if i tried lol) but you dont HAVE to do that, just use the ones that are already common and that people have been using for many years. these arent a new thing that twitter invented, reddit has been using /j and /s to indicate tone completely divorced from the concept of neurodivergency for years, simply because it can be hard to tell over text sometimes for anyone. so its nice to make your intent clear, especially for people who dont know you and cant parse it quite as easily.

and at the end of the day this whole issue could be sidestepped super easily through communication. if we communicate with each other about our needs, pay attention to our friends and communicate with them in a way where we’re both on the same page, and communicate with each other on a larger scale too. instead of making discourse posts that vague other discourse posts and getting half the idea out there, we could talk about it together and come to a mutual understanding of what everyone needs, and understand that not everyone needs the same thing as we do. accessibility and neurodiversity isnt a monolith, what may make things more accessible to some may make things less accessible to others, so lets look at things on a case-by-case basis and just respect each others needs, okay?

[thatiranianphantom]

The one where Tabitha and Reggie fix the damn thing, pt. iv

They don't leave. They can't really, because for the first few minutes, Betty and Jughead yell some fairly colorful things at them and pound against the door. Most of the more inventive threats seem to be coming from Betty, and she catches the distinctive look of fear on Reggie's face. He backs himself against the door, pressing his entire body weight against it, and motions her to do the same.

"Chop chop, Tate. I've recently learned I don't want to let baby Coop get at me, so help me out with this."

With a groan, Tabitha hauls herself against the door, wincing at the pounding she can feel on her back.

After a minute, though, the pounding stops, and they manage to sink to the diner floor. Reggie presses his ear against the door eagerly, straining to hear.

Appalled, Tabitha gives his arm a smack. "Reggie! This is their business!"

He casts her a haughty look. "Their business that I arranged. I think that buys me a listen-in. You can't say you're not curious too."

Admittedly, she is, so she heaves a sigh and presses her ear against the door.

There are shouts coming from inside, which is an oddly good sign. She hears both shouting things like "so terrible to be stuck with me" and "you gave up" and "was always going to be Archie."

And then there's something she hears clearly, and it's Betty snarling "Do you think, if I had known you were an option, it would have ever been Archie?"

It's muffled through the door, but it's still like listening in to a soap opera. There's long minutes that is just them shouting at each other, and Tabitha has never heard Jughead be so passionate about anything.

The noises eventually get further and further away, and quieter, as if the couple is moving away from the door. Exchanging a look with Reggie, they stand and press their noses against the window, figuring the two are too busy to notice right now.

Out of necessity, the window has been frosted, but they can see the outline of Betty and Jughead, foreheads pressed together, bodies shaking as if they've both been crying. It's like they're in a silent dance, locked together forever.

Reggie makes an "awww" sound, and Tabitha casts him an amused look. He looks away instantly, his cheeks reddening.

"What? Mantle the Magnifient does it again. Set it up, knocked it down."

She nudges his shoulder, more gently this time, still meeting his gaze.

"That was a nice thing you did for them. Even if having all that stuff was, just, super creepy."

"If by creepy you mean romantic, then yes."

Tabitha shakes her head, amused. "God, a lot of romance occurs in this diner."

Reggie looks at her curiously. "Et tu, Tabitha?"

This time it's her cheeks that redden. "I may have...in the moment, Jughead and I...before I knew about Betty, there may have been a kiss."

Reggie lets out a low whistle. "You and Jones?"

"Before I knew!" she insists. "I just thought he was this depressing, mildly cute guy. Who, to the best of my knowledge, was single."

Reggie snorts. "With Cooper around? Doesn't matter if they're not together, those two will always be the most taken people in the world."

She snorts in agreement. "They're intense. In more ways than one."

There's a moment of silence, then Reggie pulls away and reaches out his hand to her.

"Well, if the amount of time they spent starting into each other's eyes in the past is any indication, we've got some time. What do you say...there's got to be food somewhere around here. Have dinner with me, Tate?"

It's not even that romantic. It's Reggie Mantle. They're co-consipirators, if anything.

But there's a pounding in her stomach she doesn't really know what to do with, especially not in the face of Reggie Mantle. But she also knows she doesn't entirely hate it.

She reaches out and entwines her fingers with his. "I pick what we eat."

"Wouldn't have it any other way. But make it quick, we probably only have half an hour max before the moaning and groaning starts."

(please don't tell me to do the bughead scene from their perspective. please.)

[satsuma-saturn]

Ive been feeling down could you do some satan comfort? Like im just so overwhelmed and when im like this i either get mad or depressed.

I Am Not A Robot - Satan x Reader

A/N: Dude, I feel you on the being overwhelmed bit. I didn’t really know what route to take this, but I know when I’m laying awake at night, my mind wanders. I was listening to Call Me Kevin videos while writing this and almost wrote in random words that he was saying and that wouldn’t make any actual sense in the fic 💀 I also prolly should’ve waited to write this, since it’s super late and I just want to sleep, but I did want to get this posted, or else it was gonna take awhile before I got to it. Anyway, hope you enjoy, Anon! If it’s not up to your standards, feel free to shoot me a message. I could’ve gone a little more in depth about the reader’s thoughts and feelings, but I just wanted to keep it short and sweet.

WC: 1007

Warning(s): Idk, just general depression ig? Nothing specific tho

Another sleepless night. Moonlight peeked through the curtains, illuminating your face and dark circles. You hadn’t had decent sleep in...well, you couldn’t remember. Staying awake all night left you alone with your thoughts, consuming you. You sat up, running shaky fingers through your unbrushed locks. Your hands slid down from your head, down your face as you groaned. Maybe you needed to do something to take your mind off of the thoughts invading your mind. The library, maybe? Delving into a land of fantasy didn’t sound like a bad way to distract yourself.

Swinging your legs over your bed, you stood up, stretching. With a quick glance at the clock, it was some time after two, you strode out into the hall, shutting your door behind you. You walked down the hall, past the brothers’ rooms. As you passed Leviathan’s room, you could hear some tune from some game, probably. He needed to sleep, but you would be a hypocrite to say anything. None of the other brothers seemed active, though, which didn’t surprise you. They had normal sleeping schedules.

Finally approaching the library, you saw a dim light flooding under the door. Someone probably forgot to turn off all of the lights, the culprit most likely being Satan, since he was the one most often in the library. There was no way he hasn’t read all of the books in the library, being alive as long as he has, yet he was still always in there, reading. He even went in there to read when he was reading ebooks. You found yourself joining him often, trying to hide your little crush on him. With a small sigh, you pushed open the door, you stepped inside, not noticing that you weren’t alone. In fact, you didn’t notice until you heard someone clearing their throat. You jumped, startled by the noise.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” It was Satan. He was curled up in a chair, a book propped open in his hands. His eyebrows were high on his forehead as he stared at you, waiting for your response.

“I…” You weren’t sure how to respond. Because you were human, unlike the brothers, they tended to get pissy when you weren’t taking care of yourself. “I could say the same to you, Satan. Why are you in the library so late at night?” Your arms cross over your chest as you wait, pleased with yourself for turning it back on him.

Chuckling he shut his book, setting it on the coffee table in front of his chair. He stood up, striding over to you. “I have an eternity to sleep. You have around a hundred years, give or take a few. Copying your actions, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Again I’ll ask, shouldn’t you be asleep?” Cyan eyes, illuminated by the dim lamp light, bored into your soul as he waited for you to respond. A small, smug grin ghosted his face, as he knew you couldn’t retort.

You sighed, flopping into the nearest armchair. “I couldn’t sleep. Trust me, I’ve been trying for hours. I just...I dunno, I guess I just have a lot on my mind. I thought I’d come here to find some book to read, try to take my mind off of things. I didn’t really expect to come across you here. I thought you were asleep.”

He was silent for a moment, appearing to be lost in thought. “Well, I am here. I couldn’t sleep either, but I don’t technically need it to live. Did you know that it only takes three days of not sleeping for a human to begin hallucinating? The human body will shut down at some point, forcing sleep.”

“I sleep at night, just not very long,” you retorted, not wanting to be lectured about sleep.

“I’m just saying,” Satan said, raising his hands in defense. “Look, if you’re not going to sleep, you may as well come sit with me.” He sat back down, choosing to sit on a couch, instead of the arm chair he’d previously been sitting in. “Come sit over here.” His hand rested on the space directly next to him. You got off the arm chair, taking a spot near him on the couch. It wasn’t quite where he was indicating for you to sit, but your heart might have exploded out of your chest if you sat that close. Since you didn’t sit next to him, he apparently made the decision to sit next to you, as he scooted over stopping when his thigh was touching yours. “What? You don’t wanna sit next to me?”

When he was next to you, you made the bold decision to rest your head on his lap. He didn’t attempt to make you move, so you figured it was alright. “No, I do want to sit next to you. I just sat down here.”

Satan grunted in response, his nimble fingers finding purchase in your hair. “When was the last time you washed your hair?” He asked, rubbing circles into your scalp. “I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he said, not giving you a chance to answer. “You can worry about that later. It’s clear you need some comfort, and lecturing you won’t help. Just...just try to get some sleep, okay? You are far from well rested and humans need proper sleep to function.”

“Okay,” was all you replied with, closing your eyes. You weren’t ready to fall asleep yet, but his fingers against your scalp felt nice, soothing.

“No matter what’s going on in that little human brain of yours, your health is of utmost importance. You have to take care of yourself.” His breath tickled your hair as he leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. “You aren’t a robot. A simple reboot won’t fix you and I can’t fix you. I can only stand in your corner and be here to comfort you when you need it. Now, get some sleep, or I’ll get Belphegor to help you sleep.”